Eye Never Forgot
by Goombario Jr
Summary: The "Creepy-eyed Girl" from Dexter's past may have left him alone, but she never forgot him. Rated M for a very short scene of masturbation at the end. The girl is 18 and this is mentioned in the story.


It had been years since she last spoke to him. For her, each passing day felt like another eternity.

She had been through many insulting nicknames over the years: "Creepy-eyed girl," "Big eyes," "Bug eyes," or in high school when bullies' vocabularies improved, "Freaky-looking weirdo." Despite the painful insults, she took it in stride. She was proud of how she looked, large eyes or no-she thought they made her look downright cute. It wasn't the opinion of her classmates she worried about, though; all she cared about was the impression she made on a short, red-haired genius with a funny accent and eyes that could hypnotize.

Of course, high school was past her-her college years were starting soon. At only eighteen, she had graduated somewhat early for her age-she didn't complain, however. Maybe getting a diploma early would make her look smarter to him. She looked up at the ceiling from her plush, purple-blanketed bed. She still wore the same outfit from all those years ago, only in a bigger size as she grew in height-she hadn't grown out anywhere, much to her disappointment, but such was life. If Dexter saw her now, she would just be a taller version of the "Creepy-eyed girl" from back then.

"Eye-aye-aye, your eyes hypnotize ..." She muttered in a singsong voice, an old tune that had stayed with her from childhood. She had long since forgotten where she'd heard it, but it was one of her favorites. It always reminded her of those few days she spent with Dexter as her boyfriend, even if it was against his will. She just loved being with him, even if he struggled from her grip every time. Unfortunately, those days came to an end all too soon.

Dexter, being the handsome, amazing, brilliant genius he is, had found a way to introduce her to another "creepy-eyed boy" from the neighborhood. Of course, children are fickle, and her feelings for the genius wouldn't simply fade overnight. Spending time with this new boy, showing him her favorite plush bunny and walking hand-in-hand with him was nice ... for about a week. Afterwards, the boy was more interested in new toys and playing with others than being romantic with her-what little she knew about romance, anyway.

It was after that day that she saw Dexter walking home again and decided to follow. She hid behind fences, poles, even a mailbox to keep out of his sight, but she couldn't go on without him in her life. Even if he wanted nothing to do with her, she needed to make sure he was doing okay. For years after, she always stayed one step behind in Dexter's life; his 'episodes,' she would affectionately call them. She always thought of herself being 'off-screen' in them, keeping an eye out on her love but making sure no one saw her.

As the years progressed, Dexter changed, as did she. Dexter's love of science didn't fade, but his short stature did. By the time Dexter was in his twenties, he had turned from a tiny scientist to the definition of geek: tall, skinny, with thick glasses and a pocket protector full of pens. He had just a little acne, but that red hair stayed the same-it was one thing she loved looking at, next to those beautiful eyes of his. She could go on and on about the boy's perfection, even if those thick glasses hid some of it from the world. She wouldn't dream of calling Dexter a geek, a dork, or anything of the sort: he was perfect years ago, and he would remain that way forever.

She turned from facing her ceiling to the wall. She made a big, toothy grin at the sight; the same smile that she gave Dexter when he accidentally talked himself into becoming her 'boyfriend' on that day. Her wall was full of different pictures and papers: newspaper clippings of articles about Dexter's achievements, science fair awards, and the like. The photographs were something she was particularly proud of, as they took some of her best sneaking to capture: shots of Dexter studying at home, in his pajamas, and one as he was leaving the shower-wrapped in a white towel, of course. As attracted as she was to him, something in her wouldn't allow violating his privacy.

Well, to an extent. The pictures were totally fine-she needed those! She just wouldn't take candids that could humiliate him if they ever got out. Someone seeing you in your PJ's or covered in a towel were nowhere near as bad as seeing you completely naked. Of course, no one deserved to see him in such a state besides her, but that was besides the point.

Here she was, arguing with herself over the pictures again. Even if it was a silent dispute in her mind, it still annoyed her when she caught herself doing it. She sat up on her bed and admired her 'shrine' to her love, studying each piece as she did every day: the pictures and articles were most of it, but a few pieces were treasures: one of his dropped pencils that he had left on the sidewalk walking home from school, or a few strands of his curly red hair that had fallen out when he scratched his head.

It was no surprise that he would have enough stress to lose a little bit of hair: his sister seemed to barge into his laboratory whenever she wanted. Even when she first met Dexter's sister Dee Dee, the older blonde girl had no issue with directing her to Dexter's secret lab. She didn't realize at first how grateful she would be to Dee Dee: knowing where Dexter usually spent his time made it much, much easier to keep tabs on him.

"A look sent my way makes me shout hip-hooray ..." she softly sang, standing from the bed and walking towards the wall. She picked up one more of her treasures: one of Dexter's discarded purple rubber gloves. Her eyes darted left and right, as if someone could be watching her in her own room. When the coast was obviously clear, she held the glove up to her nose and took a long, deep sniff.

When she stopped, she felt her legs quiver like jelly. It smelled like Dexter's sweat and some kind of chemical odor. The chemical smell had long stopped being foul and was now as fantastic as candy-just the scent of Dexter's odor made her break out in a nervous sweat, as if he was standing next to her. She carefully placed the glove back down, resting it on a small table that had the stands of hair sealed in a test tube next to a framed picture of Dexter himself.

Did all of this make her 'creepy?' To the average person, absolutely. To her, it was just a show of her undying devotion for the smartest boy-no, the smartest man-on Earth. She sat down back on her bed and reached into her purple dress's pocket, fishing out a cell phone. She flipped it open, quickly pressing a few keys for speed dial; she placed the phone to her ear, and waited.

Ring ... ring ... two rings, so he was probably busy ... click.

"Hello?"

It was Dexter. He sounded more annoyed today than usual. All she could do was freeze, breathing heavily into the phone. She wanted to speak, but just hearing him made her heart skip a beat.

"Hello?" Dexter repeated, sounding frustrated. "Mandark, if this is you pranking me again, I'm gonna come over there and bop you one! I swear on Einstein's theory of relativity!" Before Dexter could continue his threat, a loud crashing sound could be heard from the background. "Dee Dee?! I told you not to touch that, you stupid-oh no."

A loud siren started to blare, drowning out Dexter's talking as more crashing could be heard. The call ended abruptly and she closed the phone, hugging it to her chest and sighing in content. It felt great to call Dexter every day, even if she could never say a word to him. One day, she would be able to talk to him again. She was sure of it. It was quite good luck for her that he still lived at home with his parents and sister; if he moved, it might take some time to track him down again, and then she of course would have to move to his new neighborhood.

Dropping the phone next to her, she lay down on her back and got comfortable on her bed. She reached up and under her pillow, fishing around for something-another picture of Dexter that she kept close for this particular situation. A situation that could happen anywhere from every hour to every day. She smiled at the photo of him; he looked annoyed, looking to the side and yelling, presumably at his sister. He had noticed the camera's flash that day, but luckily she had dove into a nearby bush before he spotted her.

Sighing in content at the memory, she reached for her dress and pulled it up. Holding the picture close to her eyes in one hand, she dove her free hand down into her white panties and started her usual fantasy: Dexter coming into her new college bedroom without so much as a warning, and seducing her in moments. All he had to do was ask and she would happily oblige, but she knew he would probably enjoy the challenge. Not that she would provide one, but if that's what he wanted, she would try.

Maybe she would just make him kiss her first. That would be enough of a challenge, right?

She dropped the picture and snatched her phone, flipping it open. She quickly pushed the keys again, opening a video-the screen was pitch black thanks to her having to hide, but the audio was crystal clear. It was Dexter doing nothing more than humming a song while studying, but hearing him drove her wild. As she started to move her fingers inside of her, breathing heavily as she listened to him, she made a vow to herself: tomorrow, she would call him again.

She'll call him, and when he answers, things will be different. This time, she'll say "Hello" before hanging up on him.


End file.
